


Rock You (Like a Hurricane)

by seirina



Category: The Nanny
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-23 00:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seirina/pseuds/seirina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Christmas story. Post-ep for 3x12, The Kibbutz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock You (Like a Hurricane)

  
**A/N** : Thanks to Tayryn, Searider-Falcon, Lilydale, and EspoirDio for their enthusiasm and encouragement while I was writing this. My apologies for all movies, songs, and sonnets ripped off herein. Hope everyone enjoys the story, and happy holidays!

* * *

**Rock You (Like a Hurricane)**

** Chapter 1 **

CC Babcock stepped from the taxi onto the icy curb of 75th Street, careful to avoid slick patches as she walked up the sidewalk to the Sheffield mansion. She pulled her long woolen coat closer around her, relishing the brisk wind that blew snowflakes across her path.

"Hello, hello," she said as Niles held the door for her. She slipped her coat off her shoulders and held it out to him, barely making eye contact, then strode across the living room towards the office.

Niles rolled his eyes at her back, and shook the coat once to remove any errant snowflakes before hanging it in the closet. No point in having to try to remove water stains from it later.

As he turned away from the closet, he noticed a slip of paper on the hardwood floor that hadn't been there before Miss Babcock's arrival. He leaned to retrieve the paper and glanced at it. "PK 51, 2 Papeari." He wasn't sure what the notation indicated, but he recognized her bold handwriting. Shrugging, he put it back in the pocket of her coat and walked towards the kitchen to clean up the breakfast dishes.

* * *

"No," she answered Maxwell's question about her holiday plans. "This year I'm getting as far away from this place as possible." She slipped her compact back into her bag, satisfied that her makeup was perfect.

"Oh, Santa got my letter," Niles drawled, and CC schooled her features to keep the smirk off her face. He was in the mood to play.

She felt fully justified in insulting him when Niles found out he wouldn't be going to Colorado with the Sheffields as he usually did. He reacted to the news like a kicked puppy. What grown man wouldn't appreciate the chance to get away from his employer for a vacation?

A volley of insults revolving around Niles's "frugality" resulted, and CC found herself feeling more awake than she had all day.

"Where do you stash your cash?" She asked him.

"Somewhere you'll never get near," he responded archly.

"Oh. Your mattress." She laughed at her own joke, ignoring the tingle she felt at the possibility. Ever since the drunken kiss they had shared in the living room three months prior, she had been doing a lot of ignoring inappropriate… tingles brought on by proximity to the butler.

"No, his." Niles taunted, jutting his chin towards Maxwell.

CC pursed her lips and left the room, dodging Nanny Fine in the doorway. She'd have bet a nice sum of money that Niles would follow her, and she wasn't disappointed. This time she couldn't keep the smile off her face.

"Don't you have anything better to do than follow me around like a puppy?" She pushed through the kitchen door and walked to the subzero for a bottle of water.

"Woof," he said dryly. "Hand me one of those, would you?"

She reached him a bottle over her shoulder, then turned to look at him. "What, no clever retort?" She held her hand to his forehead as if to check his temperature.

Niles couldn't stop the shiver that went through his body as she touched him with her cool hand. "I've been in your presence too much today; surely you're not surprised that I'm feeling quite ill," he said, his hand moving of its own accord to cover hers at his temple. The gesture belied his harsh words, and her gaze drifted to his hand on hers.

"Do I give you fever?" She deliberately deepened her voice on the last word and quirked her eyebrow at him.

"You have no idea, Babcock," he began, "how sick you make me." He couldn't keep his eyes off her lips, especially as she moistened them with her tongue.

She shrugged off his hand and gave his cheek a pat that was closer to a smack. "Then you'll be glad to know I'm heading to the theater. Fetch me my coat, please."

"Please?" He put his palm on her forehead, mimicking her movements from moments before. "Are you sick, too?" He asked with feigned concern. "I don't think I've ever heard you say please before in my life."

"I have impeccable manners and you know it, servant." She couldn't keep from leaning slightly into his touch, but she pulled away almost immediately. "My coat?" She said impatiently.

"Yes, yes. Come on, I'll see you out."

* * *

"Yes, Daddy, I've got the address and the curator's name… I spoke with Jack this morning; he'll have the plane ready on Friday afternoon…" CC sat on her leather couch, phone tucked between her shoulder and her ear as she stroked Chester's soft fur. "You've already informed Maeva of my arrival, so she'll have the house ready? Oh, yes. I'll get the painting for you. Don't worry about that." In fact she looked forward to the negotiation, and she flexed her fingers in anticipation after ending the call with her father.

She moved into her bedroom and eyed her wardrobe critically. What to pack for two weeks in Tahiti? She hadn't been to the islands in years, but she remembered the gentle breezes, the afternoon rains, the dark sand of the beaches and the drinks no bartender in Manhattan had ever managed to duplicate. Sundresses and bathing suits it would be, with perhaps the Chanel suit for her meeting with the curator.

* * *

The next day, CC left the kitchen, energized for an afternoon of work after sparring with Niles. On a whim she had brought him the stack of brochures her travel agent had sent by courier. When her father had suggested she combine her vacation with an attempt to acquire a certain Gauguin he had recently decided he must have for his personal collection, her use for the brochures had come to an end. She had even brought the two about Tahiti. Though it had been a while since her last trip, she had spent the majority of her childhood summers at the sprawling beachfront property her father owned. The brochures had at least been good for a dig at Niles's tendency to cling to his money.

He had already made his travel plans, though. She felt vaguely let down about that, though she couldn't imagine why. She supposed the old man deserved a chance to get away, though it wasn't as if he did any actual work most of the time. Shrugging, she walked back to the office.

  


* * *

** Chapter 2 **

CC sipped from her glass of champagne as she leaned back in the leather seat on her father's Gulfstream jet. She glanced down at her briefcase, but decided that the plays Maxwell had asked her to read could wait. After all, she was officially on vacation.

"Miss Babcock, we're cleared for takeoff. Please fasten your seatbelt," the pilot spoke over the intercom.

CC pressed the button near her seat and responded, "Thanks, Jack, I'm all set."

As the plane taxied down the runway, gaining speed, CC pulled up the shade on the window near her seat. As many times as she flew in and out of New York, she never tired of the view of the skyline. The plane lifted off the ground and climbed sharply. The city looked particularly lovely with its fresh blanket of snow, the grimy slush in the streets impossible to see from so far above. She was not a sentimental woman, but even CC Babcock smiled at the view of Central Park, the branches of its stately old trees laden with snow. She had arranged for the dog walker at the kennel to take Chester to the park; the little dog loved running through the drifts.

Soon the jet had left New York airspace, and CC settled in for the flight to Los Angeles. She slipped off her black stilettos and stretched out her long legs, then reached for her briefcase. Might as well go ahead and make some progress on the plays she needed to read; she had six hours till L.A. and it was only three in the afternoon. Too early to try to sleep; she'd save that for the flight over the Pacific.

Hours later, CC felt a decrease in altitude and tucked her red pen into her bag, followed by the plays she had finished annotating. She pressed the button on the intercom. "Jack, how long till we're in Van Nuys?"

"We'll be at the gate in 30 minutes, Miss Babcock. Do you want to order or should I?"

CC smiled. "I will. The usual?"

"You know it."

CC pulled out her mobile phone and scrolled to the entry for El Criollo. She never left Los Angeles without eating at the Cuban restaurant, and while she only used the jet to travel to the west coast a few times a year, she had found that her father's pilot shared her affinity for the food.

* * *

After touching down briefly at Van Nuys Airport to refuel and collect their takeout, Jack pointed the plane southwest for Papeete and the international airport on the island. CC bit down on the last delicious morsel of plantain and then stood, collecting the remnants of her meal. She walked to the galley and deposited the trash in the compacter.

She approached the cockpit and spoke to Jack. "I'm going to read a bit and then sleep. Please wake me an hour before we land."

"Will do, Miss Babcock. Good night."

CC quickly converted the couch into as comfortable a bed as possible, and stepped into the restroom to change out of her business suit. She padded barefoot into the main cabin and took the novel from her bag before sliding between the sheets on the makeshift bed. She opened her book and curled onto her side to read, but found her thoughts drifting away from the words on the page. Just before she fell asleep, she wondered idly if Niles's Christmas vacation was off to as pleasant a start as hers was.

* * *

Niles's vacation was not, in fact, off to a very pleasant start at all. He had been kicking himself since at least noon for not heading south instead of west. There were plenty of nice, warm islands in the Caribbean that didn't require stops in bloody Minneapolis in a bloody blizzard, and at this rate, he wasn't sure he'd ever get to the South Pacific. He had wanted to put a good distance between himself and New York, but Aruba was sounding more and more attractive.

He had spent his first flight, from New York to Minneapolis, sandwiched between a young woman who apparently had no interest in calming her screaming baby, and a man who had insisted—twice!—on falling asleep on Niles's shoulder. The indignities of that flight behind him, he had emerged into an airport gearing up for a winter storm, his flight to LA delayed by at least three hours. He had wandered the airport and finally settled on Surdyk's for food and sustenance of the liquid sort. He'd long since finished his lunch and was working on his third bourbon when he finally heard his flight number over the loudspeaker. He gulped down the last of his drink and gathered his coat and luggage before hurrying back to the gate.

Niles stood in line waiting for the first-class passengers to board, feeling not a little bitter about his lot in life. A tall blonde strode purposefully up to the counter, and Niles's thoughts turned to Miss Babcock. Of course that woman couldn't hold a candle to Babcock, but there was something about her height, or her hair, or her obviously designer clothing that struck a chord. He knew Miss Babcock would be leaving New York right about… he glanced at his wristwatch. Well. An hour ago. He wasn't sure where she was heading on her vacation, but he hoped she was having at least as much trouble as he was.

* * *

"Miss Babcock, we should be landing in about an hour." Jack's voice pulled her from sleep too quickly to even remember what she'd even been dreaming about, except that she had the distinct impression that it had been  _quite_  pleasant. She stretched luxuriously and reached for the intercom button.

"Thanks, Jack." Her voice cracked and she yawned. She walked into the bathroom and slipped out of her pajamas before stepping into the shower. It was tiny, but it would do in a pinch. Just as she stepped under the spray of hot water, her dream came back to her, and she blushed at the memory of it. To her endless shame, it wasn't the first time she'd dreamt about the butler, but it was the first time they'd done  _that_  in a dream. She'd rather not dwell on what might have provoked such wanderings in her subconscious, so she returned to the task at hand, half expecting to find sand in uncomfortable places.

Freshly showered and made up, CC went into the galley and collected a muffin, a banana, and a glass of orange juice, which she carried to the cockpit and offered to Jack.

Jack took the food and drink and smiled his thanks. He had heard some of the rumors about Stewart Babcock's youngest daughter, but he didn't believe the half of them. The other half, well. She did have a temper, but he, unlike the theater types she associated with, knew better than to cross her, and they got along just fine that way.

CC helped herself to a muffin and some fruit and then settled back into one of the leather chairs to wait for the jet to land. It should be about midnight when they arrived in Papeete, and CC had arranged to rent a speedboat to travel from Papeete to the southeastern part of the island, Tahiti Iti, where her father's home occupied an expanse of private Tahitian beach.

When CC stepped off the plane, the first thing she noticed was the warmth and the humidity. She inhaled deeply. She wouldn't stay away so long next time. Much as she loved winter in New York, Tahiti in December had it beat.

* * *

"Hey, mister, can you move your leg? My kid has to go!" Jerked from his slumber by those words, Niles released his seatbelt and stood, his muscles complaining with each movement.

"Certainly, madam," he responded, gesturing perhaps too broadly for the woman and her son to exit the row. She looked at him suspiciously but moved into the aisle, hustling her son towards the restrooms at the rear of the plane.

Niles sat back down, careful not to get too comfortable, because he knew it was only a manner of time before his seatmates returned. He'd been dreaming of a dancing girl wearing a lei and a grass skirt and not much else, and he preferred not to ponder why she had distinctly Nordic features rather than Pacific Islander ones. Niles pulled his blanket over his lap and adjusted his trousers. It had already been a long, long night, and his current condition was annihilating even the faintest hope of relaxation. He was four hours into the eight hour haul from LAX to Papeete, Tahiti, and he was still longing for Aruba. He would already be on the beach, drink topped with a tiny umbrella in hand. Or at least he'd be safely ensconced in his hotel room. He'd come through so many time zones he'd lost track of what time it currently was on the east coast.

Hearing the mother and son duo coming back down the aisle, complaining with every step, Niles dragged himself up again. How he had ended up with a life that required travel in coach he would never understand.

* * *

The sun was shining brightly as Niles's plane made its descent at Fa'a'ā International Airport. Niles practically groaned with relief, and would have loved to take in the view from the window if he hadn't been three seats away from it. Instead, he gathered his belongings and prepared to get the hell off the plane.

The heat and humidity were a shock to his system, he had become so used to the dry air on the plane. As he walked down the gangway, women with leis waited to greet the newly arrived visitors, and Niles smiled. Things were looking up. He shouldered his bag and bent his head to accept the lei, and his smile turned into a grin. Tahiti at last, and the blizzards of Minnesota were nothing but a memory.

  


* * *

** Chapter 3 **

CC woke to the sounds of lorikeets calling to each other outside her open window. She stretched, the feeling of the silken sheets on the king-sized bed making her wonder if she'd rather just sleep a while longer. But the hint of vanilla mixed with strong Tahitian coffee tempted her even more, and she slid out of bed, pulling her robe from the hook near the door.

"Miss CC!" The compact Polynesian woman cried in her lilting, French-accented voice, her face breaking into a smile at the sight of CC. She came forward, arms outstretched.

"Maeva, it's so good to see you," CC said, accepting the hug. It had been years since she had seen the woman who ran her father's house, but CC had fond memories of her from the summers of her childhood. She had spent more time with Maeva than with her father during those summers, as his business interests had more often than not taken him away from the islands. Maeva's long hair was streaked with white now, but other than that, she looked exactly the same to CC.

"You didn't have to come over so early," CC said. Maeva no longer lived in the house; she had a home of her own farther inland, where she lived with her husband.

"Early? It's nearly noon," Maeva exclaimed. "I wanted to see that you had something to eat on your first day back. You won't stay away so long again, I hope," she said reproachfully.

"I don't know how I stayed away so long this time," CC responded matter-of-factly. She took a plate from the cabinet and filled it with the banana, pineapple, mango, and papaya Maeva had prepared for her. She sat down at the table to eat, chatting with Maeva as she finished her breakfast.

"I'll leave you some things in the refrigerator. My husband and I are going to visit our daughter before Yasi comes in."

CC looked up, delicately wiping the juice from her mouth. "Yasi?"

Maeva said, "Yes, you didn't know? Tropical Cyclone Yasi is headed this way, though of course the path could change. They're forecasting landfall in three or four days."

CC refrained from swearing, but it was a near thing. "How did I manage not to check the weather?" She sighed. "Are you staying with Nanihi for the duration of the storm?"

"Yes, it's safer there; and then after the cyclone passes, we're staying through the new year. You should come with us," Maeva invited.

"Oh, I couldn't impose. No, I'll stay here, I'm sure it will be safe."

"The cyclone two years ago ripped off part of the roof and flooded the entire ground floor, Miss CC. Please don't risk it."

"I'll watch the forecast closely, and move to Papeete if it sounds dangerous for this part of the island."

Maeva looked at her, worry darkening her expression. CC Babcock had always been fiercely independent, even when she was a small child. Maeva just hoped it wouldn't result in her being trapped or injured during the storm, which was shaping up to be a big one, if the meteorologists were to be trusted. Yasi was already wreaking havoc in Fiji.

"Very well, but please be careful."

"Aren't I always?" She grinned.

Maeva shook her head. The child did have the feline knack of almost always landing on her feet, but careful she was not.

"Go, go! I'm sure you need to pack. Thanks for coming by this morning, and for the food. I'm glad I got to see you before your trip."

With a worried backwards glance, Maeva left via the kitchen door.

CC peeked out the window at the blue sky. Surely the storm wasn't anything to worry about. She headed upstairs; might as well see about procuring the painting for her father now, just in case.

* * *

Niles checked into his hotel in Papeete, too tired to do anything but head straight to his room for a shower and a nap. He had felt a surge of triumph when the clerk told him his was the last remaining room, due to the holidays and the particularly harsh winter in most of the United States. American tourists had flocked to the island, and Niles was pleased that he had made reservations in advance. The clerk also mentioned an incoming tropical storm, but downplayed it by saying that this particular hotel was on high ground and never sustained much damage in storms. Niles knew it wasn't his kindest moment, but the feeling of victory intensified when he saw the mother and son from the plane stomping out the door after learning that the hotel was booked solid. He shrugged. He was sure they'd find a room somewhere else.

Waking a couple hours later, strangely refreshed after so little sleep, Niles flung open the shutters and inhaled deeply. The air was perfumed with the flora of the island, and he grinned to himself. Vacation, finally. No one to ask him to prepare breakfast, or to bring in the tea, or to call him dust buster. Well, he amended. He wouldn't mind that last one so much. But he intended to fully enjoy himself, Babcock or no.

He dressed quickly for the beach, tucking his sunglasses jauntily on top of his head, a towel draped over his shoulder. If a storm was coming, he intended to fully maximize his beach time before it arrived.

* * *

CC peered in the mirror one final time, carefully scrutinizing her suit and makeup. The stiletto heels were not the most practical footwear choice for the island, but the added height always increased her confidence, and she figured she could use it in the upcoming negotiation. She picked the shoes up and slipped them in her bag, sliding her feet into more sensible sandals for the walk down to the private dock and the speedboat she had rented in Papeete. Her father's house was located a very short distance from the Gauguin museum, where she would meet the curator she had contacted from New York. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes to get there in the boat.

* * *

CC approached the Paul Gauguin Museum, her stride sure, Chanel sunglasses protecting her eyes from the sun's rays. She pulled her planner out of her briefcase to double-check the address, and nodded once to herself. She entered the museum, paid the nominal fee, and wandered. She sniffed; the museum primarily housed reproductions. There were more original Gauguins in New York, for heaven's sake. Then she saw it:  _Two Tahitian Women with Mango._  The work of art dripped eroticism, one of the women's breasts displayed practically on the mango platter, like fruit ripe for eating. The colors were exquisite, subdued and rich at the same time. No wonder her father wanted it.

CC approached the clerk.

"I'm CC Babcock. I'd like to speak with Mr. Durand."

"One moment, please." The clerk picked up the telephone and spoke in rapid French.

Not two minutes later, a short, balding man hurried out of the private offices. "Mademoiselle, enchanté," he said, taking CC's hand and bringing it to his lips.

"Bonjour, monsieur, moi aussi je suis enchantée." CC responded in French, her pronunciation nearly flawless after years of studying the language.

"I've just been admiring this," CC said, indicating the painting of the women.

"Ah, yes, we recently acquired that from a museum in New York, in fact. It is our loveliest piece."

"I agree. I want to buy it from you."

"Ah, I am sorry. That will be impossible. It is not for sale," Mr. Durand smiled, baring his teeth.

"Monsieur, everything is for sale at the right price," CC said smoothly, matching his smile.

"Well, madame, perhaps that is true, but I sincerely doubt you will make me an offer I can't refuse."

CC noticed the subtle change from "mademoiselle" to "madame," a sign that perhaps the curator considered her at least a worthy opponent.

"Try me," she said, cracking her knuckles.

  


* * *

** Chapter 4 **

CC emerged into the sunlight, her lips stretched into a triumphant grin. She carried the meticulously wrapped painting in her arms. With the storm coming, she wouldn't trust it to a courier; she'd take it to Jack personally, and he could deliver it to her father by the next day. She slid her sunglasses over her eyes and walked towards her boat, on her way back to Papeete and the airport. She pulled her mobile phone from her bag and placed a call to Jack so he would be ready to meet her there.

* * *

Niles stepped off the ferry and headed for the Gauguin Museum. After an hour at the beach, he had decided he had better take in a few sights before the arrival of the storm. Right before booking his vacation, he had read about a painting that the museum had recently acquired from the Met. Never having made the time to see it while it was in his own city, Niles wanted very much to see it now. He figured he'd admire the painting and then visit the botanical gardens before heading back to Papeete for dinner. The ferry schedule gave him two hours at—he checked his guidebook—Papeari. Why did that look familiar? He shrugged.

From a distance, Niles saw a woman emerge from the museum, holding a large package. He did a double take. She looked for all the world like—

"Niles! I didn't know you were coming to the museum!" A woman he had met on the beach—was her name Sheila?—called out to him.

Niles turned to speak with her, and by the time he glanced back towards the museum, the woman with the package had disappeared from sight. Niles shook his head. He chastised himself for seeing Babcock at every turn, and offered his arm to Sheila.

* * *

Jack had tried valiantly to convince CC to leave the island with him. He had been watching the path of Yasi closely on the news, and he feared it would be a direct hit on Tahiti. She had steadfastly refused. She wasn't going to let a little tropical cyclone cheat her out of the majority of her vacation. She had only just arrived!

Leaving her boat docked near the airport, CC had just stepped out of the taxi to do a bit of shopping before dinner. The suit she was wearing was one of her favorites, but the business portion of her trip completed, she was feeling decidedly overdressed for the island. Meandering from boutique to boutique, she selected a pale yellow sundress with spaghetti straps, a light sweater in case the evening was cool, and a floppy straw hat to protect her fair skin from the tropical sun. She asked the salesperson to have her suit delivered to her speedboat, and then proceeded to stroll down the street, keeping an eye out for a tempting dinner spot.

* * *

Niles headed for the ferry, disappointed that the painting he had wanted to see was no longer on display, but having very much enjoyed the beauty of the botanical gardens. He had left Sheila and another woman from their hotel, Marisol, admiring the greenery; Niles hoped to catch a little more beach time before dinner. They had loose plans to meet up at a beachside bar near the hotel for drinks later that evening.

* * *

The music of a live band drifting out onto the street had drawn CC to a small bar on the beach. She currently clutched a hollowed-out pineapple full of the most delicious alcoholic concoction while dancing with the tall, dark, and handsome Ari. And young. Quite young. He couldn't be more than 25. She was contemplating inviting him back to her place; after all, what better way to eradicate unseemly dreams about servants than to spend her vacation ravishing and being ravished?

Suddenly a shiver went down her spine, and she couldn't figure out why. She continued dancing with Ari, and had just leaned in to nibble at his neck when she heard it.

"Oh, shake it, Miss Babcock."

She turned around, shock written all over her face. Yes, it was Niles, all right, and he looked just as surprised as she was. He also looked ridiculous, wearing a lei, and sunglasses after dark. The khakis weren't so bad, though, her mind supplied, and she quelled the thought.

"Daylight come and me wan' go home," Niles said, taking a long sip of his drink.

"Mixing your tropical paradises, janitor-shaped-like-a-steel-drum?" CC snapped. "This isn't Jamaica. Did you follow me here?"

"Oh yes, I just can't stay away from you. I wanted so much to fetch your tea for you that I spent 24 hours stuck in various airports and airplanes just so I could follow you here." His response oozed sarcasm. And all of a sudden, he remembered why the address of the museum had seemed familiar. The slip of paper, snowflakes, and Miss Babcock's handwriting. Dear god, what if he  _had_  followed her? Subconsciously. He never would have made such a decision knowingly, he tried to reassure himself.

CC scowled. A cyclone coming, and Niles already here. Her vacation was quickly turning into a nightmare. She turned to look for Ari, but he had moved on to another dance partner and held the new woman close, swaying to the music.

"Of all the beachside bars on all the islands in all the world, you had to choose this one. Why?" She knew she sounded petulant, and she didn't care.

Niles grimaced. "Misquoting Bogart, how unattractive."

"I wasn't misquoting, I was paraphrasing! I know the line," CC said witheringly.

Niles rolled his eyes. "Come on, Babcock, I see no one else will dance with you. I might as well take pity."

"Such a generous offer, but no thanks. I was doing just fine until you arrived." CC turned towards the bar, more than ready for a refill.

Niles didn't move, but he followed her with his eyes. He slid his sunglasses up to rest on his head so that he could see more clearly on the dark beach. He stood there until Marisol tapped him on the shoulder and drew him onto the dance floor. In spite of Marisol's best efforts, and later, Sheila's too, Niles kept a close eye on CC for the next hour. She chatted with the bartender; she danced with several men; she drank: a lot. A few times, he even caught her glancing at him, and each time, he looked away quickly, but not quickly enough.

Finally, CC had had all she could stand. She stalked out onto the dance floor and unceremoniously pulled Niles away from whichever woman he was dancing with. Certainly CC didn't care to learn the floozy's name. Niles automatically took CC in his arms, and she stiffened.

"I didn't come out here to dance with you," she hissed.

"No? And yet this is a dance floor, and you so rudely sent my partner packing." He responded, moving to the rhythm of the music.

"No," she said, but reluctantly began swaying with him. "I came to tell you to stop staring at me. Better yet, why don't you leave this bar so I can enjoy my vacation in peace?"

"Me, leave? But this is practically my bar. I'm staying right there," he said, pointing at the hotel next door. Then he sighed theatrically. "Please tell me you're not staying there too."

CC sniffed. "Of course not. I'm staying at Daddy's house down on Tahiti Iti."

"Then how did you end up in this particular… gin joint?" He smiled at her, and she couldn't resist returning the expression.

"Fate or bad luck, you decide," she said.

The band changed to a slower tune, and Niles instinctively pulled her closer, until her chest was flush with his.

"Oh, bad luck, without a doubt," he murmured into her ear.

CC shivered. "My thoughts exactly," she said, moving against him.

CC leaned back slightly and looked into his eyes, which had darkened with an emotion she couldn't read. She had no trouble interpreting the hardening against her thigh, though, and struggled with her next move. She should pull away, get to her boat, flee. She knew it, intellectually. But she didn't find herself inclined to do what she knew she should.

She shifted infinitesimally closer to him, never taking her eyes from his.

Niles bit back a moan. This was dangerous territory, and he knew it. But Babcock seemed to be a willing participant, which hadn't happened since that night three months ago in the Sheffields' living room. Memories of the clinch they'd shared still colored the best of his dreams, and just the recollection of it made his groin tighten further.

"Is there any Johnnie Walker in that pineapple?" He asked her.

She snorted. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?" She licked her lips.

He leaned forward and couldn't resist following her tongue back into her mouth with his own. As he kissed her, CC lost her grip on the aforementioned pineapple, and it tumbled to the dance floor. Luckily she'd emptied it long ago, and in any case, neither she nor Niles even noticed it fall.

They kissed deeply, stopping only to catch their breath, and then plunged back into one another. CC moved her hands to his hair, plucking his sunglasses from where he'd perched them in his hair. She tucked them in the front of her dress, and he took the opportunity to catch a glimpse of her cleavage as the weight of the glasses pulled her neckline down.

CC, smirking, touched his chin and tilted his face back up.

Niles quirked a smile at her and shrugged. "Lucky sunglasses," he said.

CC arched an eyebrow at him. "You said your room is close by?"

Niles's heart rate quickened. "I did. Could I offer you a night cap?"

"You could." Her voice had deepened into a near-rasp.

Niles turned hastily, pulling her after him before she changed her mind.

  


* * *

** Chapter 5 **

CC awoke to bright sunlight, a blinding headache, and sheets that didn't feel precisely right against her skin. Her mind drifted back to the previous night. Oh, god. She'd slept with Ari. She just hoped he had already left.

The decidedly hairy leg shifting against her nullified that hope.

She rolled over, cringing as the entire room tilted at her movement.

Well, shit. A stranger from the bar would have been highly preferable to this.

For beside her, sprawled out in—she glanced around, then immediately clenched her eyes against the light—not her bed, was Niles. The butler. Her nemesis. Why, oh why, had she had those last four drinks last night? She reached over and shoved him, hard.

He let out a yelp and opened his eyes. "Bloody hell," he swore. "What in the name of all that's holy are you doing here, Babcock?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied, though she knew it didn't make much sense. This must be his room, after all.

She chanced a peek at him, knowing her headache wouldn't thank her. But oh, god, his chest was lightly tanned and his thighs were too and his cock… Christ, he was naked. She glanced down. So was she. She yanked the sheet out from under him, nearly dislodging him from the bed in her attempt to cover herself.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," he grumbled, sorry to have the vision before his eyes hidden once more from sight. He'd known she'd be beautiful beneath those power suits she was fond of, but here in his bed, bathed in Tahitian sunlight, she was breathtaking. Even if she did look like she'd just as soon murder him. Perhaps because of that, he admitted to himself.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's just what I'm afraid of. Did we…" She trailed off, her meaning clear.

"I assume so," he responded dryly, gesturing between their naked bodies.

"Oh god," she groaned, pulling the sheet over her head. How could she have allowed this to happen? "Get out," she said, her voice muffled.

"This is my room, in case you've forgotten where you are. Occupational hazard, I know."

CC jerked her head out from under the sheet at his comment. "Fuck you, Niles."

"Already had the pleasure, apparently. Though it must not have been that great since I can't even remember it." He hated himself for making the comment as soon as it crossed his lips, and hated himself even more when he saw the hurt in her eyes. He backtracked. "Listen, Babcock, I didn't mean that." He reached towards her.

She dodged his hand and cleared her throat. "Go to hell," she said imperiously and rose from the bed, letting the sheet drop.

Niles found his whimper impossible to stifle, as she stood tall and naked, looking for her clothing. She gathered her sundress and underwear and strode into the bathroom. She emerged minutes later, looking by all rights unfairly gorgeous for a woman with a mother of a hangover.

Niles jumped out of bed, stumbling as his feet tangled in the sheets. "Wait, Miss Babcock, don't go like this."

"How should I go, Niles? Clearly we made a mistake last night. Let's not prolong it." She somehow managed to strip all emotion from her voice.

"I'm not so sure it was a mistake," he said quietly.

She laughed bitterly. "It must have been, since we can't even remember it." She parroted his words back at him.

"I might remember… certain parts," he mumbled, eyes downcast.

"You're ahead of me, then," she said with a sigh. Then curiosity got the better of her. "Which parts, exactly?"

A blush colored his cheeks. "Good parts."

"What, did those good parts completely eradicate your vocabulary, Oxford? Don't you want to share any details?"

"How about I show you," he suggested, walking up to her and taking her in his arms. He dropped his head, laving her neck with his tongue. He slipped the thin strap down her shoulder, exposing more of her cleavage to him.

"How about not," she said, pushing ineffectually at him. It had not escaped her attention that he was still quite naked.

Niles bit down and then sucked at her tender skin. CC couldn't hold back a moan of surrender.

"Do  _not_  leave a mark, you bastard."

She could feel him grin against her, but he did stop. "Stay with me."

"I have to go," she said, but she leaned into his embrace and licked his neck experimentally.

"Where do you possibly have to be? You're on vacation," he gasped, his hands wandering over her backside, grasping her through her sundress.

"I have to be… anywhere but here. I have to go," she repeated, biting down on his shoulder.

Niles seized her lips with his own, putting all the emotion he didn't know how to express into the kiss. "But baby, it's cold outside," he said, pulling back, and his voice sounded like sandpaper.

CC snorted, and then whimpered against his lips, kissing him again as she brought her hand down to clasp his growing erection. She squeezed gently and withdrew her tongue from Niles's mouth, then immediately went back for more, the kiss quickly turning lascivious as he became impossibly harder in her hand.

Niles spun them around, and CC nearly lost her balance as her head continued to spin after her body stopped moving. He supported her weight and lowered her gently to the bed.

* * *

CC woke again hours later, her headache gone. Her head was pillowed against Niles's chest, and his sparse hair tickled her skin. She couldn't believe she had slept with him—twice—in the past 24 hours. Hell, it hadn't even been that long. She had to stop drinking.

She ignored the whispering in the back of her mind that she hadn't really been drunk at all the second time.

She slid silently out of his bed and pulled her sundress on over her head. She picked up her sandals and her hat and left the room without waking him.

  


* * *

** Chapter 6 **

CC was just settling down in front of the television to catch up on the cyclone's approach when her mobile phone rang. She glanced at it. Niles. She silenced the ringer. She wasn't prepared to speak with him, not yet. She needed to come to terms with what had happened between them and what it might mean before talking to him.

Her attention drifted back to the screen in front of her. Yasi had already passed Tonga, and had destroyed some beachfront buildings there. It was set to hit Tahiti the next afternoon. The storm was moving more quickly than initially predicted.

CC set about making preparations. She called a local man who saw to the upkeep of the property and asked him about nailing down the storm shutters and strapping the roof. He said he would be by that evening. Then she moved about the house, gathering supplies, running water in the bathtubs, and filling several bottles so that she would have clean drinking water.

Her phone rang again—her father. She answered the call and accepted his praise for her rapid and successful negotiation for the painting. He had had it placed in a spot of honor, and invited her to come see it when she returned from the island.

"You take care, kitten, Jack told me about the incoming cyclone. They can be more dangerous than you know."

"Yes, Daddy, I'm taking all the precautions. I'll be fine." After disconnecting the call she stretched out on the sofa, scrolling through the satellite channels. She landed on _Casablanca_  and moved on quickly.

What should she do about Niles? Certainly she didn't love him. She shuddered at the thought. (Or was it at the memory of his touch?) Babcocks did not, as a general rule, fall in love with the help. And obviously he did not love her; how could he?

So was it just sex? Damn good sex, her mind supplied, and she pushed the thought away. Although, examining it critically, she had to admit that it  _had_  been good sex.

Her phone rang again. Niles this time, again. She sighed and clicked to accept the call. "What, Niles?"

"A fine way to greet me, Miss Babcock."

"What is it that you want?" She spoke slowly, as if to a particularly stupid child.

"If that isn't a loaded question, I don't know what is," he responded. She could hear the mirth in his tone.

Ah. Playfully, then, was how he was choosing to treat this. That was fine with her. She'd already spent enough time thinking seriously about it.

"Have you seen the forecast?" He changed the subject. "I was thinking you should gather ingredients if you know any potions for controlling the weather."

"Oh, I prefer much darker magic than that," she volleyed, laughing deep in her throat. "Looks like we may be in for some rough weather tomorrow."

"Are you staying or leaving?"

She huffed. "Staying, of course. I'm not afraid of a little cyclone, and I'm certainly not letting it cheat me out of my vacation."

"Trust you, Babcock, to laugh in the face of Mother Nature. Wouldn't be the first time, though, would it, brunette?" He spoke the insult like a caress.

"So you're running away, bellboy?"

"Hell no, I haven't had a vacation in three years."

She snorted. "Isn't every day a vacation for you?"

He released a long-suffering sigh. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Helping the groundskeeper secure the property," she replied.

"Want to have dinner after?" He asked lightly, but he couldn't help thinking a lot might hinge on her response.

"Maybe? I'm not sure how long it will take. I'll call you," she responded.

Well. She hadn't said no. Still, he sighed. "Fine, Babcock, I see how it is."

"Oh, please. Are you going to pout at me?"

"Maybe?" he mocked, then laughed. "Talk to you later."

"Later," she promised, and flipped her phone closed, feeling no less confused than she had before the conversation.

* * *

Later, it was 10 o'clock and Niles still hadn't heard from her. Just as he was about to begin searching for Stewart Babcock's address, his phone rang.

"What?" He answered testily.

"Don't be such a grouch, Niles," CC said to him. "We just finished with the shutters and the roof."

"Okay," he said. "I'm starving."

"You didn't go ahead and eat?" She asked, surprised. "Tane and I had sandwiches a couple hours ago. I didn't imagine you'd wait for me."

"Well apparently I did," he said, his voice sullen.

"Okay," she acknowledged, not sure what to say to him. "Do you still want to get together tonight?"

"What, for a booty call on an empty stomach? No, thanks." He couldn't believe how childish he was being, but he couldn't seem to rein in it, either. Would it have killed her to call him earlier? Or to wake him up before sneaking out of his room that morning?

"Fine, Niles, I'm exhausted anyway." She had a low tolerance for moods like this.

"Fine," he said, and closed his phone with more force than necessary.

CC rolled her eyes. He had hung up on her. What a nerve. She exhaled in annoyance and stood up, heading to her room to get ready for bed.

  


* * *

** Chapter 7 **

The morning dawned oddly quiet. The birds were either silent or had vacated the property ahead of Yasi, and CC slept late. When she glanced at her alarm clock, she was surprised to see that it was nearly 10 am. The storm shutters blocked most of the sunlight, but a few rays filtered in, indicating that the sun was indeed shining. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept this late without also waking up with a hangover. She stretched and then flinched, muscles aching that had seen little use until the previous day. And of course that reminded her of Niles and his fit of pique the previous night. Jackass.

She slid out of bed and decided to take advantage of the outdoor shower her father had had installed. She might not get another chance to use it, if the storm did as much damage as the meteorologists suspected it would. She shed her pajamas and slipped into her robe, then gathered shampoo, body wash, and a towel. Downstairs, CC tossed her robe over a stool at the counter, then padded outside through the kitchen door.

She turned on the spray of water, giving it a moment to warm up before she stepped under it. Though she was sure she was the only one on the property, it felt vaguely wicked to be standing outside, completely nude. And it seemed even more wicked to let her fingers wander over her slick skin, lingering on her nipples before sliding one hand between her legs.

She was so caught up in what she was doing that she didn't hear the roar of the motorboat over the sound of the water echoing in her ears. She also didn't see the man approaching the house, or notice his jaw fall open as he watched her. She didn't hear him drop his bag to the sand, either. She did, however, hear the low whistle he gave when he got nearly close enough to touch her.

Startled, CC opened her eyes and brought her arms up to cover her breasts.

Niles said, "Don't stop what you were doing on my account." He could barely get the words out.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She asked, and if looks could kill, poor Niles.

He laughed, undeterred by her expression. "Enjoying the view."

"You couldn't have called out to me so I'd know it was you?"

"And ruin the surprise?"

CC grasped his arm hard and jerked him under the water. He emerged spluttering and wiping the water from his eyes. "Cruel woman."

"Jackass."

He sobered. "I know I was, last night. I'm sorry about that."

She crossed her arms over her chest once again and narrowed her eyes. "You were acting about 12 years old last night. I have no interest in spending time with an adolescent. Keep that in mind."

"Noted," he responded wryly. "How do you feel about… spending time… with an old man who thinks you're the most beautiful thing on this island?"

She pretended to consider the question, looking skyward and stroking her neck thoughtfully. "I could be persuaded," she finally answered.

"Oh, I can be very persuasive," he said, pulling his soaked cotton shirt over his head and tossing it on the tiled patio. He reached for her hands and effectively restored his view of her breasts. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they both sighed as their chests touched.

She rubbed against him, enjoying the friction, and quickly divested him of his dripping khaki shorts and underwear while he kicked off his sandals. She reached for the bottle of shampoo on the ledge behind the shower and squeezed a dollop into her hand. Putting the bottle back, she guided Niles till his head was under the stream of water. She shifted again and massaged the shampoo into his scalp, drawing a shiver from him. He returned the favor, and the feeling of his hands in her hair made her tremble.

Niles leaned in and took her lips in a tentative kiss, and he brought his hands down to stroke her arms and then her back as he caressed her lips with his own. They rinsed and then stood under the shower, kissing languidly, until the water turned slightly cool. CC reached to turn off the faucet and Niles grabbed the towel, soaking up the water on her back and in her hair before passing it over his own glistening skin.

Just as he draped the damp towel around her hips to draw her closer to him, a crash of thunder reminded them that a storm was coming. Niles hurried over to gather his bag and clothing, and then CC took his hand and pulled him into the house.

"So, Tattoo, how did you find this place?" She asked, pushing the door firmly closed behind them.

"Turns out Stewart Babcock is in the book," Niles shrugged, stepping into his damp khaki shorts.

"I'll have to look into that; can't have common riffraff dropping by unannounced." She looked down her nose at him and wrapped the wet towel around her body. She scowled at the feel of it on her skin, then draped it over a hook on the wall. She spotted her robe on the stool where she had left it on her way outside, and pulled it on, knotting it loosely.

"I should think not, if you make a habit of doing what you were doing when I arrived." He waggled his brows.

"The riffraff should be so lucky," she said haughtily. CC moved over to the counter and handed Niles a piece of fruit from the basket there before taking one for herself.

"Why did you come?" CC asked him.

Niles looked up from his breakfast, surprised. "To check on you, I guess."

"I'm perfectly fine, as you can see."

"With the storm coming in, I thought you might want to come back to Papeete with me."

"I was thinking of tracking down Ari from the other night, actually, speaking of Papeete," CC told him, licking her fingers to stop the juice from dripping onto the table.

"I'll kill him," Niles said seriously, his eyes following every movement of her tongue.

"Poor Ari," CC responded. "Would his death be worth getting you off my hands with the help of the fine Tahitian authorities? Anyway, I'm not going anywhere," she said flatly. "I have an entire house here; I'm pretty sure we'd kill each other if we were stuck in your room for the duration of the cyclone."

Niles tilted his head to the side, considering her words. "You might be right at that. I'll just stay here with you, then."

"I don't recall inviting you," CC said loftily.

"Ah, well, we're old friends. You, especially, in the  _old_  department. We don't need to stand on ceremony." He carried the mango shell to the trash and rinsed his hands in the sink. He came to stand behind CC and tucked her damp, curling hair behind her ear, leaning to trace her ear with his tongue. A clap of thunder made him jump.

CC stood and turned, laughing at him. "Are you afraid of a little thunder? I'm not sure I have the patience to put up with you in a damned cyclone. Here's a preview: it's going to thunder  _a lot_. There may even be some lightning and wind and rain." She wiped her sticky hands on his shorts.

Niles grimaced and ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed. "I'm not afraid. I just… we don't have storms like this in England, and, as you know, almost never in New York, either."

CC's eyes danced with glee. "Oh, the butler's a big baby. This is rich."

Niles stuck out his lower lip. "Don't tease," he said, pulling her hips against his.

CC bit back a moan. "Maybe not  _completely_  a baby." Suddenly she pushed him away. "Niles, what kind of boat did you use to get here?"

"Just a small motorboat, I don't know one from another."

"Do you think we can drag it ashore?"

"I suspect we could, but why would we want to?"

"Because it will likely be smashed into pieces against the dock if we leave it. I have the large speedboat I rented, but I couldn't manage it by myself and I don't think even the two of us could pull it. I'm beginning to be a little bit glad you came, old man. This will let us get out of here after the storm is over."

Niles cracked open the door and peered at the darkening sky and the wind that was already whipping through the palm trees, filling the air with swirling sand. "We have to go out in that?"

"This is nothing, Niles, come on!" CC threw open the door and he followed reluctantly. CC ran down to the dock and sure enough, Niles's little boat looked manageable enough for the both of them to get out of the water. She loosened the rope holding it in place, snorting lightly at his poorly tied knot. She threw him the rope and jumped in to help paddle the short distance to the beach while Niles pulled. Together they dragged the boat up onto the sand, well beyond the normal high tide mark. A pensive expression on her face, CC looked out at the ocean.

"Let's pull it in just a bit farther. I don't want to have to worry about losing it."

He sighed but nodded. "Aren't you worried about that fancy boat of yours?"

She looked at him and shrugged. "It's insured. And it's too heavy, so no, I'm really not all that bothered."

He rolled his eyes at her cavalier attitude, but what could he say? There was nothing they could do.

CC was finally satisfied that the small boat would be safe during the storm, and just in time, too, as far as Niles was concerned. The wind had picked up and it had started to rain in earnest. A crash of thunder followed the brightest bolt of lightning he had ever seen, and he had never wanted to be inside a building, any building, more than at that moment.

CC, however, had tilted her head back and was laughing throatily, her arms outstretched as if to welcome the storm.

"You insane woman, come inside," he said, taking her hand and pulling her towards the house.

"Spoilsport," she pouted, but she followed him to shelter.

Back in the kitchen, they both stripped off their soaked clothes. She only had on her robe, and Niles had only worn his shorts outside, so it was quick work. CC headed for the stairs to her room and glanced over her shoulder.

"Come on, I'm freezing. I'm sure you can find something of Daddy's to wear."

Niles followed her, enjoying the view all the way up to the second floor.

  


* * *

** Chapter 8 **

As morning turned into afternoon, the storm grew significantly more ferocious. CC and Niles were on the couch watching for weather updates when the electricity flickered off. They looked at each other in the darkness and CC shrugged, walking into the kitchen and flipping on the weather radio she'd dug out of a storage closet the previous day. Niles followed her morosely.

Landfall was still a couple hours away, and CC found herself feeling antsy from excitement. She had loved storms since she was a little girl, but she wasn't sure she'd ever been in quite so strong a one before.

Meanwhile, Niles felt nearly ill with dread. He, too, had never been in a storm like this, but as opposed to CC's exhilaration, he was flat out scared.

"Merry bloody Christmas," he grumbled, as the shutters rattled raucously.

"I'll protect you from the big, bad storm," CC purred, torn between amusement and some small amount of genuine sympathy at his distress. "Here, sit." She pushed him towards a stool at the bar. When he sat down, she began massaging his shoulders, pushing hard against his tense muscles.

Niles moaned in relief.

CC leaned down and whispered in his ear, "I've always wanted to… you know… during a hurricane."

Niles perked up. "I could do with some distraction."

"Sure you can rise to the occasion?"

He took her hand and lowered it to his groin. "Still having doubts?"

CC squeezed experimentally. "You might do," she said, injecting some doubt into her voice.

Niles growled and turned around on the stool, pulling her between his legs.

At that moment, their mobile phones started ringing simultaneously. They both sighed. Niles dug his out of his shirt pocket, and CC reached for hers on the counter behind him.

Niles answered his call first, and CC curled her lip in disdain at the sound of Nanny Fine's nasal voice on the other end of the line. CC carried her phone towards the living room and answered.

"CC, are you quite all right? I've been trying to get through for hours. We've been watching the weather reports out of Tahiti."

"Yes, Maxwell, I'm fine. I'm surprised the phone has a strong enough signal to work now, frankly; the cyclone hasn't even come onto land yet. The storm has been intensifying for the past several hours, but we don't seem to be in any real danger."

"Listen, have you heard from Niles? You may not be aware of this, but he chose Tahiti for his vacation, too."

CC closed her eyes. Even after all these years, it still hurt that Maxwell's real concern was for Niles. As she paused before answering, she overheard Niles in the kitchen.

"Miss Fine, I assure you, I'm perfectly all right. My nerves might have seen better days, but I'm safe and sound. And so is Miss Babcock, please don't worry about her. You know evil never dies."

CC's mouth dropped open. First, Nanny Fine had spared a thought for her? That was unexpected. Second, Niles had basically just informed all of New York and Israel that they were together on the island.

In her ear, CC heard Maxwell clearing his throat, worry creeping into his tone. "You don't have bad news about Niles, do you?"

"What? No, Max, in fact he's with me now at my father's place. He's safe. Would you like to speak with him?"

Maxwell did not manage to cover his shock at her statement. "Ah, certainly, CC, thank you," he stammered, and she walked back into the kitchen.

She held the phone out to Niles and soundlessly mouthed "Maxwell" to him. Niles shrugged helplessly, pointing to his own phone. He held it out to her, and she shook her head vehemently. Nanny Fine's expression of concern was one thing, but she'd be damned if she would willingly engage in a telephone conversation with the woman.

"Miss Fine, I have to go, Mr. Sheffield is on the other line. Yes, happy Hanukkah to you, too. Enjoy the rest of your time in Israel. My love to the children." He closed his phone and put it down on the counter, then accepted CC's phone.

"Mr. Sheffield?" he asked, and pulled CC over to him so she could listen in. She leaned back against his chest and he wrapped his free arm around her waist.

"Yes, old man, it's good to hear your voice. I was just telling CC that we were concerned about you two, what with the weather reports we've been hearing."

"I appreciate your concern, sir, but I'm sure she let you know that we're doing fine." Niles splayed his fingers across CC's belly, and she put her hand over his.

"How did you two end up together at her father's house?" Maxwell pried.

Niles cleared his throat. "That, sir, is not a short story, and this is a long distance call."

Maxwell chuckled. "Be aware that I expect a full report when we're all back in New York. Happy Christmas to you both."

"Happy Christmas, sir, to you and the children and Miss Fine."

Maxwell must have ended the call, because a dial tone sounded. Slowly, Niles lowered the phone and put it beside his.

"So," CC said glumly. "Cat's outta the bag, eh?" She turned to face him.

Niles looked into her eyes. "Is that such a bad thing?"

"Oh, it's… I don't know. It would have been nice to figure out what this," she gestured between them, "is before those two yentas found out."

Niles nodded. "Where were we before the yentas interrupted?" He slid his hands under her blouse and brought them up to cup her breasts, kneading gently through her bra.

CC sagged into him, feeling his hardening erection against her abdomen.

Niles stilled his movements.

"Don't stop," she said, frustration making her voice very nearly a whine.

"Do you hear that?"

CC put her hands over his and motioned for him to resume his attentions. "It's the wind, Niles. Remember how I mentioned there might be some, in a cyclone?"

"Should we move to an interior room, or something? Does this place have a basement?" He asked, speaking quickly, eyes darting around the room as if to find the safest possible location.

"I'm trying to  _distract_  you here, so you can stop nagging me about the storm. Will you please cooperate?" She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, and after a few seconds, he finally began to respond.

Niles reached for the hem of her blouse and pulled it over her head. Static electricity went through her hair, and he smoothed it down after tossing the blouse on the floor. She reached for his shirt and it ended up on top of hers, and Niles nimbly unhooked her bra, adding it to the growing pile of clothing. CC closed the distance between them, and they both moaned at the skin-on-skin contact.

She leaned in and whispered to him, "Let's go upstairs."

He pulled back. "Upstairs? Shouldn't we stay on the ground floor?"

"Bed's upstairs. I'm going to be upstairs in about 30 seconds. If you're afraid, I'll just have to start without you." She walked towards the staircase.

Niles saluted. "Lead the way, safety be damned."

As Niles overcame his fear of the second floor and CC fulfilled her dream of always wanting to… you know… during a hurricane, Yasi came closer to Tahiti. Unfortunately for CC, who would have really relished the experience, and luckily for Niles, who might actually have cried in fright, they had both fallen asleep in each other's arms by the time the storm crashed its way across the island. They slept the sleep of the well and truly… exhausted, having had more sex in the past two days than in the past two years combined.

When Niles next awoke, he tensed, listening for the storm, and heard in its place only the steady drumming of heavy rainfall and the light snores of the woman curled up beside him. He sighed in relief, his gladness at the lack of wind and thunder a nearly tangible thing. He brought his hand to CC's back and stroked her smooth skin. He said, his voice low, "Looks like the worst is over."

CC smiled sleepily and responded, "That's what I said, lover, when you finally rolled off me earlier." She pushed him onto his back and clambered on top of him, biting down on his nipple to temper her words. Or to further torment him, Niles wasn't sure, but he couldn't wipe the grin off his face.

"When we go home next week, are we taking your private jet?" He asked, settling his hands on her hips.

" _I_  am. Don't you already have a ticket in coach?" She hefted his cock in her hand.

Niles whimpered and stuck out his bottom lip. "Would you really subject me to that? I was looking forward to being a kept man." He shifted his hips, and she rose up on her knees, sliding him inside as she sank back down.

She stilled and considered his comment. "I don't know, what are you going to do to earn your keep?"

He thrust up suddenly, and it was CC's turn to whimper. "I'll think of something," he said, palming her breast.

  


* * *

** Chapter 9 **

The next morning, even the rain had stopped. CC awoke to the calls of the lorikeets, who must have returned after the cyclone. Finding Niles fast asleep beside her, she glanced around the room. She wondered what time it was, but the alarm clock just flashed 12:00; the power was back on, at least. Sunlight filtered in through the storm shutters, and CC poked Niles in the chest.

"Wake up, let's open the shutters," she said to him.

"G'head, who's stopping you?" he grumbled, burrowing into his pillow.

"I need your help. We have to go outside and use a ladder and a hammer." She poked him again, harder this time.

He yelped and opened one eye. "You're not going to let me have any peace till we do this, are you?"

"No," she said sweetly.

* * *

Several hours later, Niles and CC stood hand in hand and surveyed the property and their progress. All the storm shutters were open, and they'd done their best to collect the debris that had been scattered on the beach. A few shingles had come off the roof, and there had been minor flooding in the kitchen, but all in all, CC was pleased it wasn't worse.

"Do you realize it's Christmas Eve?" Niles asked CC, wiping sweat from his brow.

"It's almost hard to believe, in this weather, isn't it?"

"What are we going to do for a tree?" Niles asked, looking forlornly at the palms surrounding the house.

"What, a Christmas tree? I never put up a tree," CC scoffed.

"Yes, but some of us like to celebrate holidays with more than a fully stocked bar," he taunted.

"Well, some of us," she mocked, "had better start searching for an evergreen, then."

Not bothered, Niles looked around thoughtfully. "I'm sure I'll come up with something."

She sniffed, unimpressed. "I'm going in for a drink." She saw his knowing expression. "Of water!"

* * *

Just out of the shower, CC came downstairs half an hour later to find Niles propping a bundle of branches from a palm tree against the wall in the living room.

She burst out laughing. "Is this your Christmas tree?"

"They fell in the storm and I figured, why let them go to waste?"

"What are we going to use to decorate it?" She asked.

"We? Since when are you interested in helping, Miss I-never-put-up-a-tree?"

"Well it just looks so pitiful. Poor thing needs all the help it can get," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

Niles turned away to hide his smile. "Do you have any popcorn?"

* * *

CC sat on the couch and gazed at their Christmas tree. Niles had popped the corn, and they had strung it together, and she had to admit, it did make the branches look festive. They had found some flowers outside that had bloomed after the storm, and jasmine and hibiscus blossoms now decorated the tree, too, and perfumed the warm air of the room.

"It really needs something else… Oh, and I know just what," CC said, and left the room. Niles watched her go, and then went into the kitchen to find the small bag he had brought with him.

He pulled the brightly wrapped package out of it and placed it under the tree, then sat down on the couch.

CC returned a few moments later, a string of black pearls clasped in her hand. She wound them around the top of the bundled branches and stood back. "Perfect," she said happily, and joined Niles on the couch.

He put her arm around her shoulder and murmured, "I'd say so."

As she leaned into him, she noticed the gift under the tree and winced. He'd brought her a present, and she didn't have anything for him.

"I'll be back," she promised, and headed into the study. What could she give him? She looked around the room, but nothing seemed right. She wandered upstairs to her room and glanced through the built-in shelves, finally stopping on a book of French sonnets that she loved. She bit her lip, flipping through the pages and remembering how erotic some of the poems were. Before she could change her mind, she plucked a scarf from her closet and tied the book up in it. She didn't have any wrapping paper but surely he wouldn't care.

She walked back into the living room but Niles was gone from his spot on the couch. CC tucked the present under the tree before walking into the kitchen to find him starting dinner.

  


* * *

** Chapter 10 **

After they finished eating, they wound up on the couch, Niles seated and CC lying on her side, her head on his lap.

"Does your family open gifts on Christmas Eve or Christmas day?" she asked him.

Stroking her hair, he responded, "Oh, on Christmas Eve, always. Yours?"

She shrugged. "Both. Divorced parents." She didn't elaborate.

He didn't press for details. "I did bring you a very small thing—"

"Don't sell yourself short, baby," she grinned, nudging him with her cheek.

Niles groaned. "A gift, a present. Under the tree."

"May I open it?" She asked, and he was charmed by how excited she seemed. "See, I have one for you, too," she added.

Niles glanced under the tree, surprised. "Let's both open them!"

CC slid nimbly into the floor and reached for the scarf-wrapped book, which she handed to Niles.

He rubbed the silky scarf between his fingers and quickly untied it, unable to resist the urge to inhale the smell of her perfume that clung to the fabric. "I'm keeping the wrapping paper, just so you know," he told her.

She grinned. "Would you look at the actual present?"

He turned the book over. "I know this poet! Her sonnets are lovely. And quite naughty, if I remember correctly."

"You already have the book?" CC asked, disappointed.

"I read it in school. And I never had an edition as nice as this one. Thank you," he said, joining her on the floor. He grimaced as his knees made contact with the tile.

CC snorted. "Old man."

"Here, wench, open your present," he said, and handed her the box.

She ripped into it and drew in a breath when she saw the loveliest lei she'd ever come across in all her trips to the islands. It was made of many varieties of brightly colored exotic flowers, all woven together in an intricate pattern. Under the lei a grass skirt was nestled, and CC laughed.

"Niles," she paused. "Is this out of some fantasy of yours?"

His ears turned red. "Remind me to tell you about a dream I had on one of my endless flights a few days ago."

She skimmed her fingers down his neck. "So you think I'm going to, what, model this for you?"

He swallowed. "Is there any chance of that?"

She smirked at him. "Could be."

"How can I convince you?" He asked, rubbing his thumb over her lips.

"Read to me?" She would never tell him, but his voice had turned her on since the day she met him.

"Is that all? I can do that. I have the perfect set of sexy sonnets right here," he said, stroking the leather cover of the book.

"Well, that's not  _all_ ," she told him, and standing, pulled him up, too. She leaned over and bit his earlobe and purred a few words in his ear.

Niles's mouth dropped open. "But won't we get sand  _everywhere_ , Babcock?"

"Storms, sand, is there anything you're not afraid of?" CC demanded. "If I'm living out your fantasies, you're damn well going to live out mine."

"So you've fantasized about me?" he asked, supremely satisfied with himself.

"Oh stop it. Bring your gigantic ego over here and read to me," CC said, swatting his shoulder.

Niles reached for the reading glasses on the table beside the couch and CC choked back a whimper. The man knew how to wear a pair of glasses. She grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the couch with her, and they resumed their positions from earlier. She curled around him as he started to read, his voice like a caress over the sonnets she loved.

* * *

Days later, a sun-darkened Niles and a rather sunburned CC made their way back to Papeete in his rented motorboat. Sure enough, CC's rental had been demolished in Yasi's violent waves, but Niles's had been safe where they'd dragged it on the beach. He suspected he would owe an astronomical late fee, since he had originally just paid for a day, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was pretty sure he could convince Babcock to pony up the cash.

As CC guided the boat into a slip at the dock near the airport, Niles gathered their belongings. They'd sent for his bag at the hotel after the storm had passed, and he slid it over his shoulder before hoisting CC's suitcase out of the boat.

After settling the bill with a simple swipe of her credit card, they headed towards the airport. Spotting Jack making his way towards them, CC waved. Jack smiled at her. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Miss Babcock. I'm glad you made it through the storm."

"It's good to see you too, Jack. This is my friend Niles. Niles, Jack Campbell, Daddy's pilot."

Niles extended his hand and offered Jack a firm shake. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise."

"Think we can fit an extra passenger on the return flight?" CC asked the pilot.

"We can arrange something, ma'am, I'm sure." His eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Glad to hear it, sir," Niles said, taking CC's hand.

She threaded her fingers with his. "I'm sure we have some empty space in the cargo area, right, Jack?"

"That's about what I was thinking, yeah," Jack responded, grinning at the look the two exchanged.

* * *

Many hours later, CC and Niles spooned together on the makeshift bed that doubled as a couch. CC rested her cheek on his hand as she spoke in a low tone, her words barely audible over the roar of the jet's engines.

"This may actually be the merriest Christmas I've ever had, you know."

He knew that she did not say such things easily, and he brought his other hand up to rub her hip. "Ditto," he said, his voice deep and intimate. "Hey," he added, "does this mean I never have to fly coach again?"

CC grinned and turned over to face him, trailing her fingers over his cheek. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. "I think Santa really  _did_  get my letter, Babcock."

She brought her lips to his in a tender kiss. "I think he got mine, too."

**THE END**


End file.
